


DC20 Investigation Check

by AughtPunk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Akande wants to go back to bed, D&D, Doomfist is having a bad day, Dungeons and Dragons AU, Gen, It looks more fantsy with a Y, Moira is a druid with a bunny familar, Or is it Drider, Reaper is a spooky ghost thing, Sombra is a little shit, Widow is a Dryder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: Akande Ogundimu. Successor of the throne of Talon. Wielder of the cursed gauntlet known as Doomfist. Once imprisoned in the deepest level of Hell, now freed to rule over the lands once more. All he had to do was take back what was rightfully his from those who defeated him so many years ago. Or at least that had been the plan.





	DC20 Investigation Check

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Dungeonwatch, an Overwatch Dungeons and Dragons themed zine

High above the cloudline on the Forbidden Mountains rested the remains of the glorious empire of Talon. Hardly a decade ago Talon’s poisoned claws reached across the realms bringing ruin and rot to all that it touched. But Talon fell, as all things do, and all that remained was a single tower where once a fortress stood. For years it was abandoned until one starless night when the fires within burned again for the arrival of their king.

Akande Ogundimu. Successor of the throne of Talon. Wielder of the cursed gauntlet known as Doomfist. Once imprisoned in the deepest level of Hell, now freed to rule over the lands once more. All he had to do was take back what was rightfully his from those who defeated him so many years ago. Or at least that had been the plan.

“Someone please explain to me, in small words if you must,” Akande said as he leaned over the hand-drawn map pinned to the ancient grand table by a dagger, “why my fortress is completely unguarded? Anyone?”

Across the table his generals squirmed. Well, not Reaper; he floated there silently in a mass of shadows and eyes like he always did, but at least the other three looked uncomfortable. They were his most loyal troops. The ones that helped him escape Hell itself. And they were fidgeting like children standing in front of a suspiciously broken vase. Akande was not shocked in the least to see it was Sombra who broke first, pointing an accusatory finger straight at Moira. 

“It’s her fault!” Sombra shouted, the magic purple glyphs around her shuddering from her voice. “Her weird evil weeds tangled up all of Reaper’s skeletons!” 

Moira, dressed in bloodstained druidic robes and clutching her rabbit familiar tight, reacted in kind. “If you pardon my bluntness, his skeletons wouldn’t have gotten near my cursed briar patch if your labyrinth wasn’t so damned complex! I have personally met at least two horses with more sense than those clanking bones. At least put in a secret corridor so the troops can bypass it!”

“Complex?! You call this complex?!” Sombra waved her hand, creating an illusionary map of the labyrinth in front of her. “This is child’s play! Thirteen dead ends, no islands, and only one pit trap! You can’t blame this one on me. I even toned down my plans after someone got lost in it for two days, right Widow?”

Widowmaker, her massive spider body mostly hidden behind the table, didn’t bother to look up from her glass of wine. Akande could have sworn he had found the last of her stash. “Incorrect. It was three days.”

Akande glared at Widowmaker and went through a list of questions for the elf before settling on, “How?”

She shrugged ever so slightly, her spider legs mimicking the motion. “I couldn’t find the way out. I did contact Reaper for help, but he did not respond.”

“I see.” Akande turned to the mass of shadows and eyes. “And where were you during these three days?” 

Reaper did not respond right away. Akande did not expect him to. He did not understand how the wraith worked, what with being mostly made of hatred and despair, but he did know Reaper sometimes took a few minutes for the creature to gather most of himself to form words. Reaper stirred, bone and ink forming a more human shape before he opened his mouth and was immediately interrupted by Sombra.

“He was off playing with that grey paladin boyfriend of his, duh.”

High above in the rafters, the once-magnificent chandelier swayed in the cold wind. The chandelier was massive, heavy and possibly older than anything else in the room. In that moment Akande would have given anything for it to fall and take out his generals. Tragically, Moira let out a deafening cackle instead.

“You’re still in love with Sir Morrison!” she laughed, the rabbit in her arms chittering gleefully. 

“Lies!” Reaper hissed through a swarm of teeth and claws. “I was hunting down Sir Morrison those three days so I may kill him with my own bare hands! I will tear the flesh off his body! I will drink his blood! And when his soul passes into the Astral Plane I will hunt him down and unravel the very essence of his being so he may never know peace! And I would have had the help of my skeleton army if you didn’t destroy them!” 

“I didn’t destroy them!” Moira threw up a non-rabbit holding hand. “I have no control over the briar patch! It simply tears apart whatever wanders in!”

Sombra held up a finger. “You’re a druid. Isn’t controlling plants your thing?”

“Isn’t making sure a skeleton army doesn’t wander into my plants Reaper’s thing?”

Widowmaker took a long swig from her glass before saying, “I totally saw Reaper and Sir Morrison making out.”

“LIES!”

“ENOUGH!” Akande slammed his metal-plated fist down on the table, shattering it and driving the wooden remains straight into the stone floor. High above, the chandelier swung violently only to settle once more without a sound. He lifted his fist and picked up what remained of the map. “We can chide Reaper about his inability to sever himself from his ex later.”

“Excuse me--”

“Later!” Akande pointed a finger at the wraith. “Gather what remains of your skeletons and search the grounds for any freshly dead you can use. Do not let them out of your sight.”

“By your command,” Reaper huffed.

Akande moved his finger to Sombra. “You! Construct an emergency gate in your labyrinth! I will not have any of my troops wandering in circles! And make the key something hard for the heroes to get hold of. Your head, perhaps?”

“As you wish,” Sombra said with a nod. 

“Moira, I want every plant under your control stationed between the front door and the main road. And for God’s sake try to make your familiar look less adorable.” 

“There is nothing wrong with Mr. Flopsy, but I shall do as you ask.”

“And you, Widowmaker,” Akande turned to the still uninterested drider only to pause. “When did you see Reaper and Sir Morrison make out?”

Widowmaker shrugged again. “When I was trapped in the labyrinth.” 

“And that was--”

“Less than an hour ago.”

A soft sigh escaped Akande’s lips. Perhaps he should have stayed in the deepest pit of hell. It wasn’t so bad, really. The archdevils were very respectful. Asmodeus had even invited him over to the ninth layer for finger sandwiches. But no. He just had to get revenge against those who struck him down. Already feeling exhausted, Akande looked up at the suspiciously silent chandelier above them and cleared his throat. 

A beat passed. Akande cleared his throat louder.

A young woman’s head peeked out from over the edge of the chandelier. There was a soft blue glow of time magic around her frame, and she wore a nervous smile on her face. Akande could make out vague shapes of the other heroes doing their best to hide in the shadows of the cathedral ceiling. But it was the young time mage who spoke for her group.

“Ello there! We um, we were talking and agreed that the lot of us can come back later if you’d like. Didn’t seem right for us to get the sneak attack before you got your britches on. How about set things up, we can go have a word with Sir Morrison, have a nice cuppa and meet back up to properly storm your fortress around lunch. Sound fair?”

Akande took a long, hard look at his generals before turning his eyes back up to the heroes above. “Better make it a late dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my [Tumblr](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) for more Overwatch shipping! And don't be afraid to drop a line! I'm lonely! 
> 
> Want to know what happened to Cyber Vale? [Click here!](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com/post/148519005156/hey-wheres-welcome-to-cyber-vale)
> 
> And check out [My Blog](https://aughtpunk.wordpress.com/) for updates and original fiction!


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